


sidewalk chalk (covered in snow)

by daholdi



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types
Genre: Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2020-04-23
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:49:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23795659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daholdi/pseuds/daholdi
Summary: It’s winter when Thalia returns to Camp Half-Blood. She doesn’t know exactly how many years it’s been since the last war (and wars before that they swore would be the last).
Kudos: 20





	sidewalk chalk (covered in snow)

It’s winter when Thalia returns to Camp Half-Blood. She doesn’t know exactly how many years it’s been since the last war (and wars before that they swore would be the last). The Hunters since been traveling across the world, hunting the mythical creatures of old that still haunt this world. Before traveling to Long Island, they were tracking the Teumessian fox in the mountains of Montana. The plunging peaks that stretched for miles made Thalia feel that she was at the end of the world. 

But the fox was hunted, captured, and killed. And with no visit (dream or otherwise) from Lady Artemis to signify the beginning of another hunt, Thalia understood the message. It was time for the Hunters to return to Camp Half-Blood. 

For some of the newbies, this was an exciting experience. They hadn’t yet experienced the forum of hodgepodge of cabins or felt the stare of the Athena Pantheon follow you around the camp. The more veteran Hunters groaned at the idea of dealing with mortal demigods. 

On the bus they rented to get them to camp, Thalia overheard Marissa and Jill ranking the former locations of Camp Half-Blood over the centuries: the countryside estate in England, the Versailles-esque compound in France, the sprawling hills of the Italian coastline. In both of these rankings, the Long Island location was ranked dead last. But for Thalia, camp wasn’t a short stop or a ranking, it was where she had lived, a place she had fought for. It was home.

After they arrived at the border, Thalia paid the driver (with a handsome tip) as the rest of the Hunters unloaded their bags and supplies from the undercarriage. She had forgotten how much of a drag it was to deal with mortals, but she finally convinced the driver that it was find leaving them in the middle of nowhere because they were a Girl Scout Troop going on a wilderness survival trip. 

_Were the Girl Scouts even a thing anymore?_ Thalia wondered, but she must have said something right, as she watched the bus drive away, tendrils of dust curling in the frosty air.

She faced the her pine tree that signaled the border of camp, the massive green branches stretching into the air. The Golden Fleece glittered in the boughs and smoke puffed from the nostrils of the dragon tightly coiled around the trunk. Thalia was somewhat comforted by the thought that even with the changes of time, her tree would always be at the entrance of Camp Half-Blood. The pine tree and herself were in it together for the long ride of immortality. 

Thalia shook off her nostalgia and stepped into her role as Lieutenant, addressing the twenty-so hunters that stood before her. 

“I’m going to take the Hunters new to camp to Cabin Eight and then on a tour, Louisa and Mirai are going to organize everyone else into moving the supplies into Cabin Eight and then assigned duties and clean the cabin. And please Hunters, do not provoke the campers, I really really don’t want a repeat of last-time.” 

After that, Marissa and Jill stared downward, muttering under their breaths about how it was those damn sons of Hermes’ fault. But everyone else broke into a resounding cheer and began the trek into the valley. 

There was one that didn’t cross the border into camp with such gusto: Reyna. She stood at the pine tree, staring at the buildings below with a tight grip on her dagger. 

“Do you think they’ll remember me as a the Roman who tried to destroy their camp?” 

There was fear tinged in Reyna’s words as her eyes swept carefully, looking for enemies in the trees. She was the only Roman in their midst, she addressed their patron goddess as Lady Diana and said prayers to her at the crossroads. 

Thalia sighed, as she doubted that the anyone at camp could even remember Reyna at all. It’s been years since that war and those that would have marked her on sight as Roman are long gone. That’s part of the unspoken cost of being a Hunter, living until no one could remember you or even care about you. Every hunter has paid it several times over, wandering in the wilderness as their ties to the mortal world faded away. 

Reyna had shed the pieces of her Roman past as softly as a tree does it’s autumn leaves. The toga given to Hazel Levesque, the purple shirts traded for the silver ski jackets of the Hunters. The only piece left was her imperial gold dagger. And that wasn’t exactly unusual these days, since Meg McCaffery had started the trend of Greek demigods using imperial gold weapons. Campers wouldn’t see a former Roman praetor who engineered how to destroy the Greek camp, but a Hunter with a weapon that gleamed gold. 

Thalia speaks softly, “No Reyna, I don’t think anyone will know who you were.”

Reyna nods self-assuredly and walks into the valley, her chin high as she entered the camp that she once planned to destroy with the might of the Twelfth Legion. 

\-----

Thalia had brushed aside Cabin One on the tour, only mentioning that it had been empty for years. She didn’t mention that the last occupant was her little brother. That would have brought up too many painful memories that she didn’t want to relive in front of her Hunters. Jason was a reminder of the hidden cost of being a Hunter. Thalia always knew that she would never feel the consequences of old age. But, she didn’t know how to deal with seeing her friends’ hair turn grey and skin crumble as her hair was as glossy black as it was that fateful day on Mount Olympus. The ones she had loved had lived, died, and faded away from memory as the world spun round and Thalia continued the Hunt.

But after several days at camp, she was ready to face the pain of her past in Cabin One. She trailed her hand against the smooth chrome walls, leaving trails behind her. The door swung open easily, it’s hinges been oiled recently. 

The cabin (tomb really) was the same was it was when Thalia had first come to camp. She looked up at the changing ceiling that reflected the weather, the imposing statue of Zeus standing in the middle, and the blue tiles that lined the walls reflecting a million Thalias as she walked forward. Someone had been in here cleaning, the floor was swept and offerings were at the foot of her father’s statue. She figured these measures to keep the Cabin clean were done more out of respect. Thalia wondered who was doing it, when she came back Annabeth said that no one went in for years out of fear of offending Zeus. 

But in the corner, she found what she was looking for: Jason’s belongings. The massive statue of Zeus kept Cabin One feeling more like a temple than camp cabin, and with no beds she and Jason made do with bed rolls in a niche. Thalia knew that Annabeth had planned to put in bunk beds, but then Jason went to school in Los Angeles and then no one needed to even live in Cabin One anymore. 

There wasn’t a lot left here, Jason had taken most of his stuff to Los Angeles with Piper. But what remained hadn’t been touched for years. Thalia supposed it made sense, she reasoned only Piper or Leo had the authority to move his things out of the cabin. But Piper never made it back to Camp Half Blood, she always said that she was too busy on the farm to make the trip. Far as Thalia knew, Piper is still living out her life in the flat plains of Oklahoma. And Leo had only come back to Camp Half Blood occasionally to meet with the rest of Cabin Nine, he and Calypso were content to leave the affairs of the half-gods behind. So Jason Grace’s life in Cabin One remained in stasis, every year the pictures becoming a bit more faded, the dust settling a little thicker. 

Thalia gathered up the neatly stacked orange and purple t-shirts, faded with age. She supposed Chiron could do something with them; she didn’t want them crumbling to nothing in their father’s cabin. Pictures of their friends tacked up on the tiled walls, their vibrant colors fading to soft neutrals. She peeled them off carefully as she stacked them into neat piles, planning to keep the ones of herself and Jason, and one with her and Annabeth. She didn’t know what to do with the rest, but she added them to the pile of give to Chiron. 

More heroes for his wall, she reasoned. 

Thalia sat up after she completed her tasks, knees cracking and dust shooting into the air. No trace was left of Jason’s life in Cabin One, only tape marks and dust patterns. The physical reminders of his past presence beyond the stories was gone, and only Thalia was left with the pieces. Jason Grace would become nothing but a story told around a campfire that burned the brightest gold. 

She walked out of the Cabin, surveying the tiled walls and statue of her father. Thalia tried to memorize it in her mind; she didn’t know when she would be back. It was her favorite place to go in her head, the one place that she and brother both shared in their contrasting upbringings. With one last glance of the dusty corner, she shut the door and began to walk in the fine layer of snow. 

\-----

After a session trying (and failing) to teach archery to some Hermes’ kids, Thalia oozed frustration as she stormed into the Big House. In the living room she found Chiron reading a book by the fireplace. 

“How do you do it?

Chiron looked up, surprise written on his face. Thalia realized too late that she should have knocked or something. Barging in on immortals was not the actions to take if one wanted advice from them. 

“I assume this is about your archery lessons,” he piqued, his eyebrows raising. 

“Yeah,” Thalia grumbled as she slumped onto the green couch, “It’s just so difficult to teach them and stay patient when they do it wrong and then get frustrated. And most of the Hunters catch on to archery easy, we don’t have to teach them anything.” 

Thalia suspected that these expert archery skills were a part of Artemis’s blessing. None of the hunters were virtuosos before they joined up and Archery For Dummies wasn’t exactly part of the acceptance packet. 

“It did seem like quite the disaster earlier,” he noted, wheeling himself from the fireplace to where Thalia was sitting. 

“So how do you stay patient then, you’ve been training demigods since… forever.”

Chiron cast a glance at the roaring flames. “It’s hard to be patient,” he spoke carefully, “It’s even harder to be patient with someone when you’ve lived centuries before they were born and will live centuries after they die.” 

Thalia knew the feeling all too well, to cope with the reality that everything around you will change except yourself. 

He sighed, a thousand sorrows etched upon his face. “When I was assigned my post to train demigods, I was excited. I would get to do what I love for eternity. But it was then when I realized how long eternity really is.”

Chiron continued, “It was extremely difficult in the beginning, to pass by all of those that I trained. But eventually, after seeing a thousand lives pass by, I could see the work of the Fates. Thalia, I advise you to believe in their work. Every destiny that they make is already set, even yours. In my experience, patience comes when you accept your fate and trust the fate of others.” 

The two of them sat silently, as Thalia digested what Chiron had said. She understood what he was saying, and it made sense. The Three Fates had foreseen the entire history of the world, and the destiny of every soul in it. She needed to accept that the everyone’s lives were occurring the way the Fates planned. Even her own. 

Thalia breaks the silence, “You know we’ll be the only two left.” 

She didn’t want to say it, but it was true. Thalia was the only one left her of her generation, the ones who knew the significance of the massive pine tree that held the Golden Fleece and blanched at the mention of Luke Castlellan. But no matter how many demigods Chiron trained, but at the end of time it would be her and him. The only ones who could remember the heroes of the great prophecies as they lived, roaming the hills of Long Island and swimming in the Sound. Not from the myths told around the campfire that detailed their virtues and vices, successes and failures. It always made Thalia uncomfortable to hear the exploits of her friends told so dryly, it had felt so life-or-death in the moment. 

She cast her eyes down, muttering, “Everyone that I loved isn’t even a real person anymore. They’re just a story.”

Chiron smiled faintly, “Child, you must know by now that the myths live on forever.”

\-----

After capture the flag that night, Thalia was in a good mood. It was their third game since the Hunters had arrived at Camp Half-Blood, so Chiron forgoed the traditional Hunters versus campers formula for normal rules about teams. The Hunters had allied themselves with Apollo and Demeter Cabins and the solo campers from Tyche and Nemesis. With their strongest archers on guard duty, Thalia led a couple Demeter kids through the forest as the plants moved with them, shielding them from view. After dodging several traps that had the handiwork of the tricksters of Cabin 11, her team was victorious. 

It had been three weeks since the Hunters had first arrived, and they had integrated themselves fully into the rhythm of camp. And Thalia wished that she could succumb fully to these feelings of belonging, but she knew that Artemis would contact them soon to join her.

As the clock ticked past ten, and the lights went out, Thalia lay silently in her bed. She could feel the chill of the night wind pressing through the silver walls of Cabin Eight. As the clock ticked forward, the cabin became more and more still as more girls fell asleep. Thalia listened to their breathing, slowly drifting off to sleep. 

Thalia found herself in a valley, near a blue lake that seemed to glow. Around her, peaks crusted with snow rose up, cradling the lake. The wind whips around her as she searches her memories to figure out where she was. 

“My lieutenant” a serene voice speaks, breaking through the silence. 

It’s Artemis, standing alert with her silver bow in her hand. Her auburn hair is tied in a neat braid tucked into her silver parka. 

“My Lady,” Thalia says respectfully as she kneels.

“I hope that your time at Camp Half-Blood has been well, I do prefer the centuries when we’re on good terms with the campers. It makes proposals about the Hunters much easier to pass in the winter council.” 

Thalia nods, not sure how to respond to that. 

Artemis sighs, “I know that Camp Half-Blood has a special place in your heart Thalia, but now is the time to leave. I need my hunters with me, as soon as possible. As soon as you wake, make the preparations to join me. I’ll be waiting for you at Rubyrock.“

And with a small smile, Artemis ran off into the wilderness. Thalia still stood at the edge of the blue lake as the wind picked up, swirling the snow around her in massive drifts. Her field of vision was entirely white, as the winds screamed in her ears. After what felt an eternity, darkness clouds her vision.

Thalia opened her eyes, looking at the ceiling of Cabin Eight listening to the sounds of hunters getting ready for the day. She rolled out of bed, and turned to Clarissa. 

“Do you know where Rubyrock is?”

\-----

It’s night when they leave Camp Half Blood. Thalia wished they could have left earlier with the sun, but with no warning from Artemis about their departure everything had to be done today. The cabin was cleaned, sheets stacked neatly in the cabinets. She knew that those empty beds would sit empty for years, waiting for the Hunters to return. 

Transportation was an issue, Thalia had no idea how she was going to get the Hunters to the Canadian Wilderness at first. But several frustrating calls with the airline later, she was in possession of twenty tickets from JFK to Vancouver. Thalia reasoned that they would travel North until they meet Arteries, their patron always had a plan for her Hunters. 

At dinner, Chiron wished the Hunters safe travel and stared at Thalia as he told them that there would always be a place for them at Camp Half Blood. She knew that the message was meant for her rather than the rest of the Hunters, who were dying to leave. At the end of this speech he starting professing the long history of cooperation between the Hunters and Camp Half Blood, most hunters responded with groans and eye-rolls. It was the more mature Hunters, like Clarissa and Jill, who remembered the not too distant past when Hunters and campers were at each others’ throats of most of the time. 

But Thalia paid no thought to the feelings of her Hunters, meeting Chiron’s eyes. She knew that always would be welcomed at camp, no matter the era or occasion. But right now her place was with The Hunt. 

As Thalia scraped juicy grapes and oranges into the fire she said her prayers to Zeus and Artemis. Her father, for safe travels on the flight and to her patron for her blessings and for her to watch over the Hunters. She knew that Artemis was listening, but wished that her prayers to her father would not be in vain. 

At the crest of Half-Blood Hill, Thalia stood over camp watching the stillness. The cabins were dusted with snow, and the last smoke from the campfire rose over the green. In the pitch black sky, silver stars were blinking into focus, forming the constellations of the myths. She saw Hercules, Python, and on the horizon a girl with a bow, chasing her prey for all eternity. Thalia thought of Zoe, her brother, her friends. There was so much of her past that lay behind her. She hated leaving things behind, she sometimes wished she could stay forever somewhere and grow roots. To build something permanent. 

But her permanence was with the Hunters, twenty girls that glowed with the silver light of the moon. They had come from different parts of history, each a remnant of where the gods used to call home. Clarissa from the slums of Nero’s Rome, Lizzy from her arranged marriage to an English Duke, Mirari from 1940s California. They represented a thousand eras and yet they were all bound in their vow to Artemis. Each hunter choose this life for themselves, to not be held to the constraints of mortal life and its pressures. This is Thalia’s legacy, something far more permanent beyond a pine tree on a hill. She has led the immortal hunt for years and will continue her appointment until the day she dies. 

The last of the Hunters shut away in the rented vans, Thalia walked up to the lead van as her boots crunched in the grey snow. With one last look at the cabins, she took her place in the driver’s seat, looking into the pitch blackness of the road ahead illuminated solely by the pale beams of the headlights.

**Author's Note:**

> -title from "It's nice to have a friend" by Taylor Swift 
> 
> -the Teumessian fox is a real myth, it was created by Dionysus and then hunted by various heroes. 
> 
> hope you enjoyed!


End file.
